Adventures with You
by xxDustNight88
Summary: Struggling with PTSD and depression after the war, Hermione attends a Muggle support group at Harry's suggestion. There, she discovers a man in a long coat who opens her to the possibility of hope and adventure while helping her deal with her demons.


**Author's Note:** Having only dabbled with the Tenth Doctor before, this was a fun change of pace. Written for the Hermione's Haven Off the Beaten Path Summer fic exchange 2018, this story has allowed me to broaden m writing experience with the Tenth Doctor! It was written for articcat621 and I hope that she adores it as much as I adore her! Her Doctor/Hermione crossover was the first one I ever read and I hope that even though this is a different Doctor, it's lived up to her brilliance! Much love girl! Happy readings!

Thank you to SquarePeg72 for alpha reading and GaeilgeRua for beta reading. You two are lovely! Any other mistakes you find are definitely my own. Much love, xxDustNight

 **Disclaimer:** All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to those at Marvel Studios, Warner Brothers, or J.K. Rowling. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.

 _ **Adventures with You  
**_ **Pairing:** Tenth Doctor/Hermione Granger _ **  
**_ **Rating: M**  
 **Summary:** _Struggling with PTSD and depression after the war, Hermione attends a Muggle support group at Harry's suggestion. There, she discovers a man in a long coat who opens her to the possibility of hope and adventure while helping her deal with her demons._

. . . .

 _Adventures with You_

A year or so after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione was still having nightmares and issues with loud noises. She easily self-diagnosed the problem as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and started trying to self-medicate, as well. Only, the problem did not dissipate, and it was beginning to affect her everyday life. One particularly dreary spring day, Hermione found herself staring into a nearly empty cup of tea and wondering if things would ever get better for her.

That was how Harry found her in 12 Grimmauld Place one afternoon. He, Ron, and Hermione had moved into the townhouse after the war and remodeled it into the perfect place to live. No longer was it morose and cold but rather warm and inviting. Harry and Ron were both busy studying to be Aurors while Hermione studied to sit her NEWTS so she could apply for the Ministry eventually herself. Harry entered the kitchen after training one afternoon and spotted Hermione looking more depressed than usual.

Running a hand through his already tousled hair, Harry entered the kitchen and joined his friend at the table. "Hey, Hermione," he greeted, giving her a small smile before pouring himself a cup of pumpkin juice from the pitcher sitting between them. "How was your day?"

She lifted her gaze to his and shrugged. "It was okay, I guess. I studied for a while and took a nap this afternoon. The nightmares kept waking me up, though." She sighed heavily and placed her face in her hands.

"You need a proper night's sleep," Harry said softly and then poured a glass of juice for Hermione too. "Why don't you take some dreamless sleep potion tonight?"

Growling into her palms, Hermione mumbled, "No, I'm afraid I'll become addicted like George." Ron's brother was having a harder time than most getting through the losses of war. Although, he did have a rather good reason. Fred's loss was felt throughout their entire circle of family and friends. "I'll manage somehow."

"You're going to wear yourself thin," Harry pointed out, getting up from the table and beginning to prepare them some sandwiches for dinner. He suspected Hermione hadn't bothered to eat all day either.

"Once I get through these exams," Hermione explained, "things will get better."

Harry didn't bother to point out that after she passed her NEWTS, she would be joining the Ministry where she would have to work extra hard. She probably knew that and was simply trying to get him off her back. Anyway, he set down a plate with a sandwich and a few carrot sticks in front of her and thought about his next suggestion. She might have something to say against it, but it had worked for him.

"Eat that," he said, pointing at the plate. He waited until she took her face out of her hands and began to eat before clearing his throat and saying, "I want you to come somewhere with me tonight."

Chewing her food, Hermione leveled Harry with a curious stare and then sipped her juice. "Go with you where?" she asked, setting aside her half-eaten sandwich.

"I've been going to a Muggle support group once a week to help deal with my own PTSD, and I think it might help you too," he told her seriously. "It's really helped to talk through some of my issues, even if I can't come right out and say I fought in a Wizarding war."

"I had no idea you were going to therapy," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want you to worry about me." Harry resumed eating, thankful when Hermione followed suit. "You should come with me, though. Since I started going, the nightmares are fewer and further between. Not to mention, my stress levels are down."

Hermione bit her lip as she thought about his proposition. Harry knew she was probably at her wit's end and needed to do something soon lest she lose it completely. He nearly sighed in relief when she shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Sure, Harry," she told him. "It couldn't hurt to try."

. . . .

Hermione had to admit, she was rather nervous about this meeting Harry brought her to, but that was before it began. Twenty minutes in and she was feeling major relief. The support group met in a small room in the back of a church, and there were only about twenty people there. The leader was a man in his late thirties who had fought in Afghanistan, and he made everyone feel welcome. Hermione introduced herself along with everyone else and then settled in with Harry to listen to the stories being told. It was at about this time that she had the sudden feeling she was being watched.

Lifting her eyes away from the young woman currently speaking, Hermione scanned the room until she found the source of her discomfort. She almost gave a little jump when she found a man leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He had brown, spiky hair and a serious expression on his face as he examined her. When he noticed her watching him, he nodded and resumed watching the speaker. Hermione, however, continued examining him. He was wearing a long coat overtop his brown, pinstripe suit. She had to smile when she saw his white Converse sneakers.

Idly, she wondered why he was standing in the door and not joining them. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he'd seen war himself. A lot of it. It was the same look she saw each time she glanced in the mirror. Shivering, she tore her gaze away from the man and resumed paying attention to the group.

Sometime later, when a few others spoke their peace of mind, Hermione took a chance and looked to the door only to find that the man had disappeared. Frowning, Hermione figured he either was in the wrong place or had enough for one night. Either way, she put him from her mind and joined Harry for refreshments. She wasn't sure if she was getting anything out of the support group just yet, but she wasn't going to give up.

. . . .

So that's how it went for a couple of months. Every Tuesday evening, Harry and Hermione would go to the Muggle support group and listen while others talked through their PTSD and depression issues. Hermione slowly felt herself becoming more comfortable around the others. She even noticed that she was having fewer nightmares, if only just. Nevertheless, it was a step in the right direction, and she was thankful for the hours of sleep she was able to get now.

As for the man in the long jacket, she had seen him a few more times over the course of her time spent with the group. Each time, he would linger in the doorway, catching her eye briefly, and then be gone when she sought him out again. He never stayed for refreshments nor did he come in and share his story. One time, Hermione even excused herself to use the loo in hopes of finding him. The only thing she found was an old, blue Police Box tucked away in a storage closet. She thought it odd that a church had such a thing tucked away but never bothered to mention it to Harry.

Harry talked one Tuesday evening about the progress he was making. He told the group how he felt he was better able to spend the night with his girlfriend without worrying he'd wake her up screaming in terror. Hermione listened with rapt attention, the unspoken agreement between her, Ron, and Harry to not talk about the war with one another momentarily broken in this safe space. As he continued talking about how he was hopeful that he would eventually be well enough to ask her to move in with him really stirred something within Hermione.

It was at this time she noticed the man in the coat watching her intently. She wet her lips and sat up straighter in her folding chair. Harry's words were stirring a kind of hope within her, and she wondered just how freeing it could feel to share her own story with the group. Only, she was nervous that they would judge her, as silly as that sounded. She never felt judgment toward any of the people there, and they never judged one another, but it was intimidating to think of herself spilling her deepest secrets.

When the group leader asked if anyone else wanted to speak, she seriously contemplated raising her hand but held back in the end. The leader adjourned the meeting, and then everyone stood up to get refreshments. Harry was busy talking with a man missing half of his arm, so Hermione wandered over to the door to peek outside. Sure enough, the man had disappeared again, but she hoped that someday she could hear his story. He was extraordinarily interesting, and Hermione hated that he was always gone before she could introduce herself. Sighing in disappointment, she wandered over and stood with Harry until they left to return home.

. . . .

Over the course of the next week, Hermione pumped herself up in hopes of sharing her story at the meeting. She was tired of sitting on the outskirts and hindering her healing process. The entire point of attending the meetings was to open up in order to heal. She was only hurting herself by sitting there in silence. Harry was able to open up so she should be able to as well. The morning of the meeting, she sat with Ron in the kitchen and told him as much.

"I'm going to speak at the meeting tonight," she revealed, Harry having finally told Ron where they were disappearing to. Ron wasn't quite ready to join them but said he'd keep an open mind.

Ron smiled and stabbed a piece of sausage with his fork. "That's great, 'Mione. I think you'll be great. If I didn't have to go and help George with the shop tonight, I'd consider coming."

"That's alright. George needs you more than I do," Hermione said with a sad smile. "Besides, I'd probably be too nervous having you there. This will be better."

"Still, though, don't worry about it. Just get your story out there and set your mind free," Ron told her, setting down his fork and patting her on the hand. "And remember, we love you no matter what."

Hermione found herself speechless and tearful after that. Ron, understanding she may need to be left alone, cleaned up his dishes and left for Auror training with Harry. Finally able to compose herself after her friend's kind words, Hermione spent the remainder of the day preparing herself for the meeting. She knew she couldn't take notes into the session without looking odd, but she laid in bed and practiced her speech over and over until Harry came home.

. . . .

It was nearing the end of the meeting when Hermione finally worked up enough courage to raise her hand to speak. The man in the long coat hadn't shown up, and for that she was grateful. She didn't know why, but he made her nervous. Maybe he suspected that as well and stayed away on purpose. When the group leader nodded, Hermione sat up straighter and smiled at everyone, fully prepared to share her story.

"Hello," she said timidly. "I'm Hermione, and I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." She smiled when everyone said hello, thankful when Harry patted her knee in support. Clearing her throat, she launched into her heavily edited tale. "About two years ago now, I was abducted by some rather horrible people. It was during a dark period in my life to begin with, so having to go through that has left me with some terrible scars and nightmares."

When she paused, the group leader kindly encouraged her to continue. "It's okay, Hermione. This is a safe space, and you can share whatever you need to."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, tucking a curl behind her ear. "They tortured me, cutting into my skin and making me suffer all sorts of ordeals. I fear that I would have died had I not been rescued in time. There was still so much left to endure after my time in captivity, that I feel I never fully recovered from it all." She paused, surprised to find herself choked up at the memory of Bellatrix using the _Cruciatus_ curse on her over and over, and over again. "Anyway, the nightmares are terrifying, and some days I worry if I'll make it through this at all. Coming here has helped because aside from Harry and a couple of our other friends, I've always felt so alone in this."

She felt a little silly ending the way she did, but she couldn't really say much more without revealing that she was a witch and Harry was a wizard. Nevertheless, the group responded kindly. A few told her how she was so strong and that each day would be a little easier. Some had tips to share on how to deal with the after-effects of being tortured, having gone through that themselves as Prisoners of War. By the time the leader had them break for refreshments, Hermione was feeling more hopeful than she had in ages and Harry was giving her this smile as if he'd known all along this would work.

She patted his arm as she stood to get some coffee and a biscuit, allowing him time to talk with the friends he'd made since joining. Hermione was still a little bit of an outsider, but she felt after tonight that would change. She was thinking idly about how she felt lighter when a shadow befell her as she stirred her coffee. She glanced up and nearly dropped the cup when she found the man in the long coat standing there staring at her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "You startled me." What else was there to say without being rude?

The man smiled and ran a hand through his spiky hair. "Sorry about that," he said with a smirk. "I wanted to let you know it was interesting to hear your story."

Hermione sipped her coffee with furrowed brows. "Really?" she asked. "I didn't see you in the doorway tonight."

"Well," he said slowly, sliding both hands into his coat as he glanced around the room. "Sometimes I lurk in the hallway. I don't like to involve myself all the time."

"You're here now," she pointed out, smiling herself.

"You got me there," he replied as he continued to stare down at her face. "I thought it was time to introduce myself to you, Hermione."

Opening her mouth to ask how he knew her name, she closed it again when she realized she'd said it before speaking earlier. "Yes, well, you know my name and my story, but I know nothing about you aside from the fact that you lurk in doorways and wear a long coat."

He laughed, and Hermione found the sound refreshing. Tipping his head slightly, he said, "As I told you, I try not to involve myself. And I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"The Doctor?" she inquired, scrunching up her face in confusion. "Doctor Who?"

Smile widening, the Doctor merely picked up a chocolate biscuit and said, "Just the Doctor. Hey," he interrupted himself. "Do you like to travel?"

"Are you asking me to go somewhere with you?" Hermione asked, setting down her cup and giving the Doctor her full attention. "We've just met. I hardly know you." Hermione was starting to find this entire conversation to be rather strange.

"That's easily rectified," he said and bit his biscuit. Chewing thoughtfully, he contemplated her. "I'm the Doctor, and I do a lot of what you could call, travelling. I, too, have seen war. I've made sacrifices and fought in many battles. Sleep doesn't come easily to me, and the first time I saw you here, I knew you and I had more in common than anyone else."

"Why do you say that?" she questioned, forgetting all about her coffee and giving the Doctor her full attention.

"Your trauma can only be treated with one thing. Change. Adventure. A new lifestyle," he explained. "It's what keeps me afloat. Without my travels, I wouldn't be able to live day to day. The horror I have seen…" He trailed off, his face growing serious like it had been the first night she saw him standing in the doorway. Shaking his morose expression away, he asked, "So despite the fact that we technically just met, do you want to take a chance with me?"

"I can't just leave, Harry," she said, motioning over her shoulder to her friend. "He's my friend. We came together, and I'm not sure he'd approve of me disappearing with someone I've just met."

Turning toward where Harry was standing talking to a few people, the Doctor called out, "Oi, Potter?"

"Yeah?" Harry asked, turning and giving the Doctor a wave while Hermione watched in confusion. She'd had no idea he even knew of the man in the long coat. "Mind if I take Hermione here off on an adventure?"

"Not at all," Harry replied, grinning when he saw Hermione's wide-eyed look. "She could use a night out, or something like it."

"Brilliant," the Doctor said, clapping his hands. Turning to Hermione, he offered her a hand and waggled his eyebrows. "See, Potter knows and trusts me enough to take you with me. How about it? Want to go on an adventure with me?"

Still a bit skeptical, Hermione eyed up his hand and contemplated what she should do. The normal Hermione would decline and go home with Harry to study and sleep. Then there was another part of her yearning for something more. Adventure, the Doctor called it. Glancing into his chocolate eyes, Hermione felt her defenses crumbling. It couldn't hurt to make a new friend, especially one who knew where she was coming from emotionally. Sighing, she shook her head.

"Sure," she said as she placed her hand in his. "Why the hell not?"

"Allons-y," he muttered joyfully before tugging her and beginning to run from the room.

Hermione yelped in surprise and shot Harry a dark look when he chuckled as she and the Doctor practically blurred by where he was standing. She barely had time to think of where they could be going so quickly when the Doctor stopped and opened the random broom closet she'd previously found. Startled when he closed them in together with the strange, blue Police Box, she was about to question this entire thing when he opened the door of the box and pulled her inside.

Finally, releasing her hand, he ran over to a console of sorts in what appeared to be a pretty freaking huge spaceship. Removing his long coat, he carelessly threw it, so it hung between two gnarled pillars surrounding the centre of the ship. Hermione blinked and then rubbed at her eyes before taking it in a second time. "Doctor?" she asked, drawing his gaze to her. "This is...bigger...than I anticipated."

Smirking, he resumed tinkering around at the console. "Not the usual response I get." Shrugging, he paused and then turned to lean against the large console.

"What is it?" Hermione inquired, wandering closer to him now that the initial shock of the situation had worn off.

"This is the TARDIS." He smoothed a hand over the console, smiling up at the machine with adoration. When Hermione merely blinked, he added, "It stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"It's a spaceship _and_ time machine?" Mouth agape, Hermione glanced around as she ran a hand through her curls. This was madness.

"I promised you an adventure, Hermione," he told her, hand hovering over all the levers and buttons. Taking her hand with his free one, he gave her a soft smile and said, "Where would you like to go?"

"In all of time and space?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. She felt a little jolt in her heart, feeling more alive than she had in quite some time. Where to, indeed?

"Anywhere," he replied, giving her hand a squeeze.

Biting her lip, she thought about where they could go in all of space and time. She didn't think she was ready for another planet just yet, but maybe another country… Meeting his gaze, she said, "What about the Catskill Mountains. I've always wanted to visit them."

"I've never been there," the Doctor said and began tinkering with the buttons and wheels. "Let's see what they hold for us." Just as he was about to pull the lever that would send them on their journey, Hermione placed her hand on his arm and stopped him.

"1969," she said, testing him. When he gave her the most mischievous of smiles, she knew she was in for the time of her life. It was a good thing she'd time-traveled before and was a witch, or she probably would have thought this man crazy. Although, he had yet to know that secret.

"Allons-y?" he asked placing his hand on the lever.

Adding hers overtop his, she nodded. "Allons-y!" Then, together, they pulled the lever and began their first adventure together.

. . . .

"Well, we _finally_ made it here," Hermione muttered, squeezing the Doctor's hand and smiling up at him through her lashes. When he laughed, she asked, "What?"

"You. This. Us," the Doctor replied with a simple shrug. "Had I known from the beginning that you and Potter were magical, I wouldn't have tried so hard to impress you with my time-traveling skills."

"I had no idea he never told you what we were, and besides," she said, poking him in the side, "you totally would have tried to impress me anyway, Mr. Let's End Up in 40th Century France for our First Date."

"The TARDIS takes me where I need to be." He pulled a face and scratched at the back of his head in thought. "Not always where I want to go."

"Let's not forget the collapsing star, the dehydrated Nile, and the multiple other adventures we've gone on over the past three months," Hermione pointed out much to his chagrin.

Ignoring her teasing, the Doctor chuckled. "As I said, I usually get where I want in the end. So what do you think?" He gestured out at the field before them.

"Woodstock 1969," murmured Hermione, gazing at the endless sea of bodies dancing and rocking out with The Who. "This is mind-blowing. One of my favorite bands and I'm seeing them live at Woodstock…" Turning to the Doctor, she slid onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Turning and pulling Hermione flush against his trim body, the Doctor took her chin in his fingers and said, "Thank you for taking a chance on an ancient Time Lord like me."

"Hah," she laughed, her head thrown back, so her curls cascaded down her back. "If I had known you were an alien who was hundreds of years old…"

"You still would have run away with me," the Doctor finished for her, loving the way she smiled despite trying to look stern.

"This trip was everything I never knew I needed, Doctor," she murmured and then surprised herself by wrapping her hand around his neck and tugging his face closer to hers. "And so much more."

She stared up into his chocolate eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. For weeks now they had teetered on the edge of something more than friendship and Hermione was more than willing to fall over and rush into whatever it was becoming. The Doctor must have seen something in her eyes that answered his unspoken questions because he gently brought his lips down to hers for a kiss. It was barely more than a brushing of lips against one another's, but it was enough to ignite a fire within Hermione's very soul.

When the Doctor pulled back, he said, "Come with me," and took her hand again.

Without worry, Hermione followed him inside the TARDIS, which was parked randomly in the middle of the field. None of the concertgoers seemed to notice, and Hermione found this rather funny. She hid a secret smile as the Doctor opened the blue door, now so familiar to her, and led her inside. Once there, he used his sonic screwdriver to dim the lights and then pulled her into his arms once more.

This time, his kisses were much more heated, and his hands began to roam the curves of her body freely. Hermione kissed him back deeply, enjoying the way he wrapped himself around her as they moved toward the hall leading to one of the many bedrooms the TARDIS housed. By the time they reached the bed, Hermione was in nothing, but her knickers and the Doctor's shirt had been thrown somewhere in the corner. Pressing her body down into the mattress of the ancient, canopy bed, the Doctor paused to stare at Hermione with such affection; she had to look away.

"You are more beautiful than all the stars in the universe," he whispered, trailing his fingertips over her smooth skin.

She shivered at his touch, both embarrassed and turned on by his words. "Thank you," she said, averting her eyes. It had been a long time since she'd been told she was beautiful by a man, let alone a Time Lord from a far-off galaxy. She soon found a gentle hand turning her face so she could look into his eyes once more.

"I'm serious, Hermione," he whispered reverently, lowering his face to hers. He kissed her tenderly, lingering as he pulled away. "I have seen many stars, and none of them shines as brightly as you."

Hermione was the one to rekindle the kissing, and she was rewarded when she felt his hands slowly removing her knickers. Now naked, Hermione felt herself feeling emboldened by her desires and allowed her hands to touch as much of the Doctor as possible. She also found herself rocking her body against his, wanting to feel his hard length without the hindrance of his trousers. He wrapped her legs around his hips and allowing her to press ever closer. As his mouth moved to kiss her neck, Hermione noticed something odd.

"Is the TARDIS moving?" Hermione asked, gasping as the Doctor continued to pepper her neck with kisses. She didn't remember him stopping to program a new destination before coming to the bedroom.

"Probably," he murmured, stopping to draw one hardened nipple into his mouth. Smiling when Hermione moaned and arched her back, he continued his ministrations while his other hand slid down her naked flesh. As his deft fingers easily slipped into her damp core, he gently bit down.

Hermione cried out in ecstasy when his fingers entered her. Her hips began moving with his hand, but she wanted more of him. "Merlin," she gasped as he began to nibble at her other breast. "I need all of you, Doctor. _Please_."

At her pleading, the Doctor withdrew his fingers from her and quickly removed his trousers so they could finally be flesh to flesh. Meeting her lust-filled gaze, he slowly slid his hardened length into her, drawing a moan from both their mouths. Without any more prompting, he withdrew slightly and then pressed in again. The Doctor braced himself on his elbows and set up a steady rhythm, one that would bring them both to the brink rather quickly.

Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders as she went along for the ride of her life. His long cock stroked her in the most perfect way, bringing her closer to orgasm with each rock of their hips. She whimpered as the Doctor mumbled sweet nothing against her neck, his tongue occasionally coming out to taste the saltiness of her skin. Her fingernails raked across his back, causing him to groan and quicken the pace. More than anything, she wanted this moment to last forever, but she also wanted to come apart in his arms. With one hand, she rubbed frantically at her clit, causing her desire to tighten and prepare for release.

The Doctor encouraged her with more kisses, his tongue seeking out hers in a frantic battle that neither was worried about winning. No more words were needed, their bodies doing the talking for them as they barreled through time and space. This was what both of the war-stricken lovers needed. They'd needed someone just as lost as they were to find solace in so that they could survive their trauma. Somehow, through sheer luck, they managed to end up at the same meeting for lost souls of war. With one final thrust, the Doctor solidified their connection.

And whether by the magic of the TARDIS or merely the fates, they came together in a devastatingly beautiful way. Hermione's body pulsed around the Doctor as he emptied himself within her core. When it was over, he rolled onto his back and brought Hermione with him. Pulling her onto his chest, he smoothed a hand over her sweat-dampened back in soothing circles. When she sighed with contentment, he smiled and kissed to top of her bushy-haired head.

"Here's to more adventures with you," Hermione whispered against his lips as she lifted her head. She was thankful that her time spent with the Doctor had allowed her freedom from the chains of her post-war depression.

He chuckled, the sound full of warmth, and carded his fingers through her curls so he could keep her close. "To _all_ the adventures with you," the Doctor murmured and then kissed her soundly as the TARDIS whirred and transported them to their next exciting destination.


End file.
